


Closing the Loop

by HopeStoryteller



Series: Cry for the World [4]
Category: MacGyver (TV 1985), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil Palmer is Not Described, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeStoryteller/pseuds/HopeStoryteller
Summary: Retirement is, in theory, lovely. There are no missions to be dragged on or guilted into by Pete. All I have to do is get up in the morning, eat something, exercise, and so on.So, in practice, retirement got old really fast.It's been a long time since MacGyver has done much of anything worthwhile. It's been a long time since he's seen his old friend Carlos, too.
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Series: Cry for the World [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580779
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	Closing the Loop

Retirement is, in theory, lovely. There are  _ no _ missions to be dragged on or guilted into by Pete. All I have to do is get up in the morning, eat something, exercise, and so on.

So, in practice, retirement got old  _ really _ fast. I used to be the star agent of the Phoenix Foundation. The ever-present thorn in every oppressive government’s side. I used to be  _ something. _

Now I’m just bored. Now I understand why Pete hasn’t retired, despite being older than me. He  _ can’t _ return to a normal life, not while there are still things that need stopping and saving.

Honestly, I don’t know how I  _ did. _ It wasn’t so bad, at first. If I lie to myself, it still isn’t  _ so _ bad. It was for my son, but he’s grown up and he doesn’t need me anymore and honestly, at this point, does  _ anyone? _

So it is that one day, I happen to look at the date. August 14, 2013.

Has it  _ really _ only been thirty years? Thirty years to the day, since the incident with time traveling I really would rather not repeat, but it still introduced me to one of my dearest friends. I know  _ he _ hasn’t retired, simply because of what I remember from that.

I wonder if he’s realized yet?

It’s with this in mind that, once night falls—Carlos told me long ago that the radio man stops his broadcasts at sundown, most days—that I dial one of the few numbers I kept around from my Phoenix days.

_ “Hey,” _ says my friend’s voice immediately.  _ “This is Carlos. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave your name and number and I’ll call you back when I get a chance. I should warn you, however, that—oh dear. I have to go. LeaveamessageafterthebeepBYE!” _

His answering machine beeps. I take a deep breath. “Um, hi. It’s Mac. I, uh, happened to notice what day it was. You doing alright? I guess… I just wanted to say hello. Retirement is  _ not _ all it’s cracked up to me and if Pete would let me come back, believe me, I  _ would. _ ”

I laugh hollowly. “Anyway, how’s—”

_ “If you are finished recording, please hang up or press 1 for more options,” _ his answering machine says.

* * *

I hang up. Stupid newfangled answering machines.

I get a call back two days later, on my way back from helping some of the local kids put together a set for some play or another. At least the kids know they can come to me to build things, or (occasionally) help with homework. I think I  _ would _ go insane if they didn’t.

My phone rings, and I pick it up immediately. “Carlos?”

_ “Um,” _ says the voice on the other end,  _ “actually, no, it’s—” _

“Cecil,” I say, because after listening to even  _ one _ of his radio shows all the way through, I’ll know  _ that _ voice anywhere. “What are you doing with my friend’s phone? Is he okay?”

_ “Oh, he’s fine! The phone isn’t. He’s been trying to get a new one for the past two days. I’ve been trying to resurrect his old one for the past two days. Didn’t actually mean to call anyone, sorry! Suppose that’s a side effect of the chanting. Who… is this?” _

It’s my turn to say, intelligently, “Um.” Internally, I war with the possibility of alerting the probably not human radio host to the fact that I, the weird interloper, am friends with someone who seemed to be mostly accepted by the most messed up town I’ve ever been in.

Eh, Carlos can take care of himself, he’s from there.

“Name’s Mac,” I say as a compromise. “Can you get him a message?”

* * *

Almost a week later, a two-seater pickup truck I don’t recognize pulls into my driveway. The engine rumbles to a stop. The driver’s side door opens. A dark-haired man with glasses, wearing a flannel shirt, well-fitting jeans, and (shockingly) no lab coat hops out with a wave. “Hey, Mac!”

“Hey.” Sticking my thumbs in my pockets, I grin. “How’s the time travel treating you?”

“Pretty good? I mean, of course the City Council wants to throw me in the abandoned mineshaft for several  _ other _ unrelated reasons, but they haven’t gotten me yet, and time travel isn’t even illegal anymore..”

I blink. “Uh… who wants to throw you in the  _ what?” _

“Don’t worry about it, it’s got free HBO.” 

Carlos gives me the slightly lopsided smile that roughly translates to either  _ it’s a Night Vale thing you wouldn’t understand without living there _ or  _ science is neat. _ Based on context, I’d assume the former.

“I’m worrying,” I say. “Though free HBO does sound pretty neat.”

My friend laughs. He moves to close his door, but peers inside and calls, “You coming?”

It is then that I realize Carlos didn’t come alone. Someone is in the passenger seat of his truck, a man, probably—I don’t want to assume.

“No,” comes the muffled reply. Muffled or not, I freeze.

I  _ know _ that voice.

“Carlos, who is in your car?” I ask, though we both know the answer.

My friend sighs. “That would be Cecil.”

“Cecil,” I repeat. “As in the moderately unnerving radio host who used to be your boss before the time travel. That Cecil.”

“I… don’t know any others?” Carlos shrugs. “He got some time off after what happened with the subway. I was coming out here anyway, asked if he wanted to come, he said yes among other things. So—Cece, you coming?”

“In a moment,” comes the voice of the radio, as I try to wrap my head around  _ Cece _ . “What if my head explodes?”

“Your head is not going to explode.”

“The air here isn’t the same as in Night Vale!”

Carlos sighs. “Yes, it is. We are maybe an hour away—or maybe five, I’m not actually sure. But the air is, mostly, the same—and if it was going to do something, you would have noticed by now. The truck isn’t sealed from the outside. If it was, we would have suffocated.”

“Oh.” Cecil considers this. “Give me a moment?”

“As long as you need. But please  _ do _ come out at some point?”

“I’m gay!”

“I know, Cecil.”

He sighs. “I’ll be right there.”

Carlos nods, turns to me, and says, “I probably should have dragged him out of Night Vale sooner.”

“Right,” I agree, and manage to keep my confusion from exploding into a million questions at least until we’re inside and the door is shut behind us. “So… why… did you bring him?”

“Well,” Carlos says cheerfully, “I’m gay too.”

“That explains everything.” That explains absolutely nothing.

“I wanted to properly introduce my boyfriend to the man who… honestly, did more to raise me than my birth family ever did.” Carlos waits patiently for me to stop choking on my own spit. “And you to my boyfriend. That’s Cecil.”

“Okay. That… might as well happen.” I shrug. “Retirement never really suited me anyway.”

“Oh, relax. You’ll be able to get back to your  _ retirement _ in no time.”

This is the first time Carlos ever visits me and brings his boyfriend. Through the next several years, it proves to be anything but the last.

**Author's Note:**

> "there probably won't be any more of these" I said, foolishly.
> 
> I'm so far from being in either of these fandoms these days but y'know what? it's still fun to play around with this crossover sometimes. merry xmas, mom, though you know just as well as I do that I don't celebrate. it's just a fun excuse to write things for others.


End file.
